COG
My hands trembled as I called back, dread gnawing at me with every ring.
The voice on the other end answered quickly, filled with urgency. “Mrs. Hawthorne, we’re so sorry to disturb you, but Theodore has developed a high fever.”
My heart dropped. “A high fever?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“We’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon,” the attendant explained. “When we couldn’t get through, we called Theodore’s father–the number listed as secondary on the registration form.”
“And?” I asked, already knowing the answer would hurt.
The attendant hesitated before continuing, her voice tinged with discomfort. “He just answered coldly and said, ‘Take him to the doctor. Don’t bother me with that problem again.”
Tears welled in my eyes as anger and heartbreak washed over me. Even when our son was sick, Liam refused to
care. He was too bu
playing the doting partner to Evelyn and her child.
“I’m coming right now,” I said quickly, grabbing my bag.
“Actually,” the attendant continued. “We’ve already brought Theodore to the hospital where you work. He’s being examined by a pediatrician right now.”
I rushed to the pediatric section, my heart racing with worry. When I arrived. I sport the daycare attendant
waiting near the entrance. She looked relieved to see me and immediately came
e over.
“Thank you so much,” I said, gratitude pouring out of me. “I’m sorry for the trouble, and I’ll reimburse you for the travel expenses.”
She waved her hand dismissively, smiling kindly. “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Hawthorne. We just wanted to make sure Theodore got the care he needed.”
Just then, I heard a familiar voice. “Amelia,” someone called gently.
I turned and saw Dr. Nathaniel Reed approaching, a warm yet concerned expression on his face.
He was a pediatrician and an old friend from university. His calm presence was a sharp contrast to my spiraling
thoughts.
“Nathan,” I breathed. “How’s Theo? How’s my son?”
Nathaniel placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and gestured for me to follow him into the examination
room.
“Amelia, it’s going to be alright,” he assured me. “His fever isn’t too high, and it seems like a simple viral infection. I’ll run some tests just to be sure, but there’s no need to panic. He’s in good hands.”
I let out a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension ease from my chest. “Thank you, Nathan,” I whispered, my voice breaking slightly as I tried to keep my emotions in check.
He offered me a small smile. “You know I’d do anything to help you and Theo. Just take a deep breath, okay?”
I tried to steady my breathing as I watched him work.
Despite the situation, his calmness was reassuring, a quiet pillar of strength I had not realized I needed.
Nathaniel had always been like that.
Back in university, we often ended up in the same classes, working on projects together or staying late in the library to study. He was the kind of person everyone liked–kind, dependable, and always willing to lend a helping
hand.
Some of our mutual friends used to tease me about dating Nathaniel. “You two would make the perfect couple,” they would say, nudging me playfully.
But I had always laughed it off, dismissing the idea,
7:42 AM ď ď
Forget Me Once, Farewell Forever
To me, Nathaniel was my safe space, a friend who never judged or pressured me. I valued his presence too much to risk losing it over something as fragile as romance.
Perhaps that was selfish of me, but Nathaniel never seemed to mind. He was also one of the few people that knew about my marriage with Liam.
So, I could not help but feel a deep gratitude for his presence in my life.
Nathaniel turned to me again, holding Theodore gently as he spoke. “He’ll need some rest, so let him be under my supervision for three days. I promise you he will be okay after that.”
Those words brought a small, shaky smile to my face.
“Thank you, Nathan,” I said again, meaning it more than ever
After moving Theodore to the ward and watching him finally sleep peacefully, I let out a sigh of relief.
The sight of his small chest rising and falling rhythmically eased the weight on my heart, if only slightly. Quietly, I stepped out of the pediatric room. My chest burned with anger and frustration as I walked through the hospital halls toward Liam’s room
Earlier, I had sent him a scathing message, cursing him for ignoring the daycare attendant’s call and letting Theodore suffer.
But unsurprisingly, there was no reply–just silence. I had no choice but to confront him in person.
It did not matter whether Liam considered Theodore his legitimate son or dismissed him as a mistake. The fact remained, Theodore was his son, and he deserved his father’s care.
It was not just for show that I had listed Lian
number as the emergency contact at the daycare.
As I reached the door and pushed it open, I yelled, “Liam, Theodore is two years old. He’s sick right now with a high fever, and you didn’t even care to answer the daycare’s call! What kind of father are you?”
He glared at me, his patience clearly waning. “I’m not his father,” he said, “Stop bringing him into my life. I won’t entertain this anymore.”
The world around me seemed to stop. His words echoed in my ears, each one a dagger stabbing into my chest. I took a step forward, my hands trembling. “Liam,” I said, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation, “How can you say that?”
